


(this is) a story of

by nereid



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Skins (UK)
Genre: Crossover Pairings, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 01:56:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4121869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nereid/pseuds/nereid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a tale of two girls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(this is) a story of

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clytemnestras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clytemnestras/gifts).



 

 

 

 

One girl: a cigarete, a mess of dark hair and even darker eyes. A leather skirt and something that looks like a half torn up boybeater. Another girl: no cigarette, a skirt a bit longer and a checkered sweater, straight red hair and eyes focused on the darker ones.

(This is a tale of two girls.)

Later:

Silouetthes in dark alleys, hushed whispers and footsteps. Two pinkies reluctantly entwined, "you're not much of a talker, are you?"

Effy's silence in response.

(This is a tale of running away.)

Effy cutting Dawn's hair when it gets too long for Effy's taste, to the solitary light of one flickering lamp on one of their nighstands. Or both of their nightstands, since both of them start their nights in the middle of the bed and change sides countless times until morning. The first thing Effy does every morning is light a cigarette and offer it to Dawn. The first thing Dawn does every morning is roll her eyes, "don't be silly, Effy" and decline the cigarette.

(This is a story of lapses and sin.)

Sometimes when Dawn unlocks the door and comes in, Effy isn't there. Dawn has to look for her then. Sometimes, when Effy can't be found in their room, if Dawn's lucky, she'll just be in the bathroom, sitting on the floor with her hands in her hair. The first time Dawn finds her like this, she sits down next to her and tries not to talk, even if she doesn't know any other method of cheering someone up, and Effy looks like she's in need of some serious, high level cheering up. But Dawn thinks she's learned that Effy likes not to talk and Dawn lets her do that sometimes. The first time Dawn finds Effy like this and sits down next to her and doesn't talk, Effy kisses her, sloppy, open mouthed and so very real. Dawn kisses her back.

(This is a tale of solace.)

The first time Dawn sneaks into Effy's bed is a few days before the kiss. It's silly, really, Dawn's just woken up from a nightmare that still feels real in her throat even if her head doesn't remember it and when she opens her eyes Effy's staring at her from her own bed. Effy doesn't move and Effy doesn't say a thing and somehow Dawn still feels better. But not better enough, because she still wants Effy to hold her. Effy nods, which Dawn decides is an answer to the question she didn't ask. So she jumps into Effy's bed and Effy drapes her arm around Dawn's waist and her breath is soothing on Dawn's neck.

(This is a tale of comfort.)

Some days are ice cream days for Dawn, and she's never sure when those will come, so it's a wonder how Effy knows somehow anyway, and brings various flavored treats from the local grocery store.

(This is a tale of a home.)

Some things change and some never do. Effy shaves a lot of her hair some summers and proudly sports an undercut. Dawn thinks she's crazy and still beautiful like this and she kisses her shaved head often. Dawn buys sensible clothes, but even then laundry day still means old Def Leppard shirts she stole from Spike, that Effy pretended to hate for some time and now occasionally steals and wears herself.

Effy still smokes despite the morning cough, but she considers each cigarette more and tells Dawn she's trying to smoke only when she really wants to, and not when she needs to. Their sex is fun and then usually sexy, sometimes quiet and sometimes loud and sometimes Dawn moves Effy's head away from between her legs because she needs to tell her immediately about an article she read that day, and Effy always forgives her when she does this, except if it's a really shitty day and she lacks the necessary forgiveness. She smokes on their balcony then, if there's one in their current place of residence, or in their kitchen when there's no balcony, and she draws stars in the notebook that Dawn uses for research ideas until Dawn comes into the kitchen or onto the balcony and takes a pencil out of her pencil case and draws moons and suns in the spaces between Effy's stars.

Time passes and some things change and other things don't. Dawn grows into her limbs eventually, even if she still stares sometimes at her knees, wondering if they're real, wondering if they're really hers. Effy grows out of her desire to not be eventually, even if she still sometimes buys some pills before she flushes them down the drain.

(This is a tale of life.)

There are fights and compromises and improvements and setbacks and sharing and caring and days when Effy pretends she never cared at all and Dawn has to do what she can to make her remember. Sometimes she succeeds, but not always, and sometimes she makes it all worse in the process. Sometimes Dawn doesn't put her books down for hours that turn into days that turn into weeks and Effy doesn't know how to get her back. Years go by and she gets better at nudging Dawn's elbow and settling her head on Dawn's shoulders, "Tell me what you're working on this time."

A lot of the time, Effy doesn't ask this question. A lot of the time Effy spends days not talking and not doing much of anything, because maybe she doesn't matter at all to Dawn if Dawn can read for days on end without noticing Effy, without needing Effy.

None of this ever gets fixed, not completely, but that's alright, they both decide. It would probably be silly to expect otherwise, even if they both wish for that sometimes anyway.

But - this is not a story of fixing.

 

 

 

 

This is a story of staying somewhere anyway.

 

 

 


End file.
